(Sasha and her Mother are in the two front seats of a car. Sasha is in the driver’s seat and is looking rather nervous.)
Mother. Okay, Sasha. Easy now. You’re doing fine. Sasha. Mom, we haven’t even pulled out of the driveway yet. Mother. And you haven’t crashed so that’s good. Sasha. (Panicked.) I don’t think I can do this. Mother. (Reassuring.) Yes, you can. Sasha. (Panic gone.) ’Kay. Mother. You’re buckled? Sasha. Yes. Mother. Okay, time to start. Check your mirrors. Sasha. (She does.) Aw, crap. I got somethin’ in my teeth. (She starts to pick at her teeth.) Mother. Sasha, focus. Sasha. Oh, sorry, what were you saying? Mirrors are fine. Mother. Now look both ways on the street to make sure no one’s coming. Sasha. (She does.) All right. Mother. Now ease out of the driveway. Nice and slow. Sasha. I—I think I got this. (She turns the wheel.) Mother. Okay, good. Now— (Sasha slams on the brakes and the Mother is thrown forward, as is Sasha, but she is more prepared. The seatbelts stopped them both.) Sasha. What do I do? I don’t know what to do! Mother. (With a hand pressed to her forehead.) It’s a stop sign. You stop! Sasha. I’m sorry. I’m just so scared. Mother. You’ll be fine. Sasha. (Again, panic gone.) Okay. Mother. Now pull left. Sasha. (She does.) Um, what is this? Mother. The intersection, Sasha. A block from your house. That you have lived in for sixteen years. Come on. Sasha. What—what do I do? Mother. (She picks up the water bottle next to her.) Stop behind the car in front of you. (She starts to take a sip.) Sasha. (Screaming.) Stop screaming at me! Mother. (Spitting the water all over the place.) Oh, my God! Sasha. (Hits the brakes again. Panicked.) What do I do? Mother. Calm. Down. Sasha. (Instantly calm.) Okay. Mother. (Relaxes herself and shakes her head. She puts the water back down.) Sasha. (Filling the silence.) You know what I regret? Mother. (Under her breath.) Getting in this car? Sasha. What? Mother. What? Sasha. I regret not practicing driving sooner. Mother. Me too.Sasha. The—the light’s green. Mother. Then go. Sasha. (She slams down the pedal and both women are forced back in their seats.) Mother. Sasha! Sasha. (Violently turning to the left.) I don’t know what to do! Mother. Slow down! Sasha. (Lets go of the wheel and closes her eyes. Yells.) I can’t do this! Mother. Sasha, look at the road! Sasha. I can’t! Mother. Dog! Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog! (The Mother grabs the wheel and turns the car.) Sasha. (Opens her eyes. She looks behind her at something in the road.) Was that Grandma? Mother. Take the wheel! Sasha. I— Mother. STOP THE CAR. (Sasha hit the brakes. After they’re settled, the Mother gets out, stomps around to Sasha’s side, and rips open her door.) Sasha. What are you doing? Mother. Get out. Sasha. (Uneasy.) Okay. (She does.) Mother. (Gets in the car and shuts the door.) Walk home. Sasha. Okay.
By Harrison Pyros
(Sasha and her Mother are in the two front seats of a car. Sasha is in the driver’s seat and is looking rather nervous.)
Mother. Okay, Sasha. Easy now. You’re doing fine.
Sasha. Mom, we haven’t even pulled out of the driveway yet.
Mother. And you haven’t crashed so that’s good.
Sasha. (Panicked.) I don’t think I can do this.
Mother. (Reassuring.) Yes, you can.
Sasha. (Panic gone.) ’Kay.
Mother. You’re buckled?
Sasha. Yes.
Mother. Okay, time to start. Check your mirrors.
Sasha. (She does.) Aw, crap. I got somethin’ in my teeth. (She starts to pick at her teeth.)
Mother. Sasha, focus.
Sasha. Oh, sorry, what were you saying? Mirrors are fine.
Mother. Now look both ways on the street to make sure no one’s coming.
Sasha. (She does.) All right.
Mother. Now ease out of the driveway. Nice and slow.
Sasha. I—I think I got this. (She turns the wheel.)
Mother. Okay, good. Now— (Sasha slams on the brakes and the Mother is thrown forward, as is Sasha, but she is more prepared. The seatbelts stopped them both.)
Sasha. What do I do? I don’t know what to do!
Mother. (With a hand pressed to her forehead.) It’s a stop sign. You stop!
Sasha. I’m sorry. I’m just so scared.
Mother. You’ll be fine.
Sasha. (Again, panic gone.) Okay.
Mother. Now pull left.
Sasha. (She does.) Um, what is this?
Mother. The intersection, Sasha. A block from your house. That you have lived in for sixteen years. Come on.
Sasha. What—what do I do?
Mother. (She picks up the water bottle next to her.) Stop behind the car in front of you. (She starts to take a sip.)
Sasha. (Screaming.) Stop screaming at me!
Mother. (Spitting the water all over the place.) Oh, my God!
Sasha. (Hits the brakes again. Panicked.) What do I do?
Mother. Calm. Down.
Sasha. (Instantly calm.) Okay.
Mother. (Relaxes herself and shakes her head. She puts the water back down.)
Sasha. (Filling the silence.) You know what I regret?
Mother. (Under her breath.) Getting in this car?
Sasha. What?
Mother. What?
Sasha. I regret not practicing driving sooner.
Mother. Me too.Sasha. The—the light’s green.
Mother. Then go.
Sasha. (She slams down the pedal and both women are forced back in their seats.)
Mother. Sasha!
Sasha. (Violently turning to the left.) I don’t know what to do!
Mother. Slow down!
Sasha. (Lets go of the wheel and closes her eyes. Yells.) I can’t do this!
Mother. Sasha, look at the road!
Sasha. I can’t!
Mother. Dog! Dog, dog, dog, dog, dog! (The Mother grabs the wheel and turns the car.)
Sasha. (Opens her eyes. She looks behind her at something in the road.) Was that Grandma?
Mother. Take the wheel!
Sasha. I—
Mother. STOP THE CAR.
(Sasha hit the brakes. After they’re settled, the Mother gets out, stomps around to Sasha’s side, and rips open her door.)
Sasha. What are you doing?
Mother. Get out.
Sasha. (Uneasy.) Okay. (She does.)
Mother. (Gets in the car and shuts the door.) Walk home.
Sasha. Okay.